Perfect Darkness
by silver-sunn101
Summary: HarryRon slash. One-shot. Ron doesnt feel good enough to be with Harry and can't see past the dark. How does Harry help him see the light again?


Ron woke early that morning, like every other morning that year, before the sun was up. He looked out the window and saw darkness. Always plaguing him, this darkness, even on the brightest of days. He felt no hope any more, no hope of escaping this darkness that surrounded him on all sides. Some people say there's the 'light at the end of the tunnel' but what if there wasn't? What if, at the end of this hypothetical 'tunnel,' there was just more darkness?

He walked into the bathroom and locked the door out of habit... Seamus had almost caught him once this year. He wouldn't let that happen again. He knew that he'd be done before any of them woke anyhow.

He stripped himself of his clothes and turned the water on as he stepped into the shower stall and closed the clouded glass door behind him. The water was so hot it scalded his body and was probably turning his delicate skin a bright shade of red, but he didn't care. He slowly ran his fingers through his red hair to get it completely wet and he thought about Harry.

Harry James Potter, Dumbledore's Golden Boy, the savior of the wizarding world. That was who he was to the others, the outsiders who couldn't see past the scar of lightening on his forehead. Ron, however, had seen past that scar, past the hero profile their world had given his friend.

Ron knew that Harry was just like any other teenager. Harry felt anger, sorrow, friendship, loyalty, nervousness, boredom, stress, fear, and simple happiness like everyone else. A few of those emotions were more prominent though; anger, sorrow, loyalty, and nervousness to name a few.

Over the summer Harry had found a spell in a book from Hermione that repaired his poor eyesight and no longer wore his glasses, making more people attracted to him than ever before. Ron was one of them. He thought his life was miserable, having to try to be just friends with Harry. Ron was aware, as was every other person at the school, that he wasn't the only one who was interested in Harry. And with his choice of almost anyone in the castle, why would Harry ever choose plain old Ron?

By this time Ron had put his back against the wall and had sunk to the cool tiled floor, his knees bent, but not up to his chest. The hot water stung his legs, back and arms as he reached for the folded razor on the other side of the shower stall. He stretched his long pale legs out as far as he could in the tiny shower stall and unfolded the stainless steel blade.

Ron wiped the tears out of his eyes in a vain attempt to see better, but the tears reformed as soon as they had gone. He pressed the blade to his heavily scarred upper thigh and cut in deeply, watching as the blood thinned when the water from the showerhead above him sprayed on his legs.

Since he liked wearing short-sleeved shirts and tank tops a lot and hardly ever wore shorts, Ron cut the skin on his upper thighs where no one ever saw. If people started asking him about it he wouldn't get the space that he wanted. All he wanted was to be left alone in this misery.

When he had cut each leg twice he put the blade aside and watched the blood creep out of the gashes in a daze. The water stung slightly as it hit, but not as much as the first few times had. The pain let Ron know he was alive, not in some sort of twisted hell. It let Ron know that he could still feel when everything in his life had him so numb.

He gave into the tears rapidly escaping from his eyes as he shut them, leaned his head against the wall behind him and sobbed his heart out.

* * *

Harry was the last to wake that morning. The beds of his roommates were empty, but he could still hear someone in the shower and by the time he was dressed the water had stopped. Harry sat on the edge of his bed as he packed his school bag for the day. Once done with that, he set out to find his shoes in the messy room.

He had just finished tying his second shoe (which had ended up under Dean's bed somehow) when the bathroom door opened and Ron came in the room, dressed with only a scarlet red towel that hung loosely around his hips.

Harry fought the blush that was sneaking to his cheeks as he looked at Ron's wet chest. The lines of muscles were apparent, but weren't noticeable unless you looked closely enough. And, Harry realized, he was looking close enough to see them. He gave an awkward cough and started double checking his bag (with no real need to) with shaky hands.

"Good morning Ron," Harry said with smile at Ron once he had composed himself.

Ron smiled back, but Harry was so busy studying Ron's body that he didn't notice that Ron's smile didn't reach his eyes. Harry's eyes traveled to Ron's legs, where he saw fresh cuts that looked as if they had just healed themselves. Ron quickly covered them, but Harry had already had the image burned into his mind.

"So... is everyone else already downstairs?" Ron asked, hoping Harry hadn't see the cuts and scars. Ron took longer this time than usual, they weren't supposed to be awake yet. But, usually he didn't give into his tears.

"Yes, they are," Harry said in a strained voice. "What are those from?"

"What are what from?"

"Sit down,"

Ron sat on the edge of his bed, and Harry knelt in front of him. Harry moved the towel up just enough to see the fresh cuts, and absentmindedly wished he could touch his friend there for different reasons. He ran his finger lightly over one of the cuts.

"These, what are they from?" Ron didn't look at him and didn't reply. "You didn't do this to yourself, did you?" Ron locked eyes with him, his eyes full of pain and sorrow, and nodded.  
"Why?" Harry asked in a deadly whisper. Ron felt the tears building up again. When Ron said nothing, Harry stood and glared at him, "I don't understand why you of all people would want to do that to yourself. You have friends, and a family who loves you," his voice was getting louder with each word.

"My family has nothing to do with it! I know they care for me. I know that I have good friends who also care for me."

"Then why? Why are you hurting yourself like this?"

"Just because you're my friend, Harry, doesn't mean I have to tell you everything!"

"That's why I want to know! Because you're my friend and -"

A timid voice interrupted Harry's yelling, "Hermione wanted me to tell you that classes start in a half hour, and she's in the library so she'll see you in class."

"Thank you Neville," Harry said thought gritted teeth, still glaring at Ron. Harry waited until Neville had left before walking over to his bed. He closed up his bag and hoisted it on his shoulder, ignoring Ron's watchful eyes.

"Harry I don't see what the big deal is-"

Harry looked at him, "Dudley started cutting himself the beginning of last year. The longer he did it, the less the pain hurt him and the cravings for that pain grew. By the time my birthday came around this summer he was even more depressed and couldn't get it to hurt anymore, so he cut deeper. That time he killed himself. I woke on my sixteenth birthday to my aunt's screams. Now we never got along, but it still hurt when he did it. I can't force you to stop, but I want you to. I can't lose you Ron," Harry said as he walked to the door. "I love you too much." Harry locked eyes with Ron, before leaving him to dress in peace.

* * *

Hermione looked between Harry and Ron over lunch as she tried to figure out what had happened. Ron would shoot Harry apologetic and almost guilty looks and Harry would shoot back hurt glares. 

"I'm tired of this! What's wrong with you two?"

"Harry's not minding his own business-"

"Ron's being an idiot-"

They had spoken at the same time, and were now glaring at each other.  
"It _is_ my business Ron," Harry said firmly.

"No, it's not. Not everything I do is your business, or your fault–and I know that you're blaming yourself for it,"

"For what?" Hermione asked, but was ignored.

"We're finishing our conversation later Ron," Harry said as he stood up. "Meet me at eight in the Room of Requirement. I'll have the Map so if you don't show, I'll come find you." Harry left Ron alone with Hermione. She shot Ron an annoyed look.

"What've you done Ron?"

Ron pushed his untouched plate of food away. "I don't really see how it's any of your business," he said louder and with more venom in voice than he had meant. Several people from their table and the Hufflepuff table next to theirs looked over. Ron opened his mouth to apologize for snapping, but Hermione stood up before he could form the words.

"Well excuse me for trying to be your friend! I'll know better than to do that next time!" She shouted.

The only sounds in the Great Hall after her outburst were Hermione's angry footsteps, the slam of an oak door, Malfoy's snickering and a miserable moan from Ron before he let his head fall onto the table in frustration.

* * *

Ron wandered through random hallways and corridors, unaware of where his feet were lead him. The words Harry had spoken that morning plagued his mind and no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn't stop. 

'_I can't lose you Ron . . . I love you too much. I can't lose you Ron, I love you too much.I love you too much.I love youtoomuch.Iloveyoutoomuch.Iloveyoutoomuch.I.Love.You._'

Ron tried to shake the words from his head but still couldn't get them to stop. He checked his watch and he saw that he only had ten minutes to figure out where he was, figure the path to the Room of Requirement and to get there before Harry came looking for him.

When Ron made it to the room he was pleased to find that he wasn't late. He really didn't feel like making Harry any angrier than he already was. And, even if the meting wasn't on the happiest of terms, Ron still looked forward to spending time with Harry.

He didn't have any idea of what to tell Harry as to why he had done it. What was he supposed to say? 'Harry I've been cutting myself because I'm depressed that you'll never love me any more than a friend'? That'd do wonders for Harry's guilt complex.

No closer to knowing what to say to Harry, Ron walked in the room.

At first glance, Ron thought the ceiling was gone. But he realized that it was just enchanted to be a perfect image of the clear March night sky outside the castle. Harry was lying on his back in the middle of a large bed, gazing at the stars with his hands behind his head.

Harry moved over on the far side of the bed. "Come here," he said without looking away from the sky. Ron lay down next to Harry and followed his gaze to the stars. "Do you see that bright star right there? Next to the constellation Orion?" Harry asked. He pointed up at the enchanted ceiling.

"That one right there?" Ron asked with a hand raised to the same star.

"That's the one... do you know the name of it?"

"No,"

"It's Sirius,"

"Really?" Ron asked, unsure of where Harry was going with the conversation.

"Yes... it's comforting, in a way... it's like he is still watching over me," Harry said softly.

Ron gave a small smile, "Knowing Sirius, he probably is."

Harry was quite for a moment. He sighed then turned on his side and looked down at Ron, using his elbow to hold his head up. "I want you to be honest. I want to know why you're doing it,"

"Harry I... I don't want to tell you," Ron said in a shaky voice.

"Why not? You know that you can tell me anything and I wouldn't be able to stay angry with you,"

Ron closed his eyes and shook his head. "You'd still be able to hate me even if you weren't angry with me,"

"Ron you aren't making any sense..." Ron didn't reply, and kept his eyes closed. "Open your eyes," Ron opened his eyes, and found Harry's face hovering over his own. "I could never have you. Never. Please tell me why you are doing this to yourself?" Harry asked. He moved away and sat cross legged on the bed.

Ron sat on the edge of the bed, and with his head in his hands he shook his head. "I can't Harry," he said with a dry sob.

"Why not?" Harry asked. He didn't let his voice rise, but Ron could sense the tone hid anger. Ron only shook his head. Harry was starting to get frustrated. "Why the hell can't you tell me Ron? I'm your best friend!"

"It's because of you all right!" Ron exploded as he jumped off of the bed. He spun around to meet Harry's gaze.

Ron could see confusion, hurt and shock in Harry's green eyes and hated himself for hurting the person he loved. He wanted to lock himself in the bathroom and cut himself at that moment. Anywhere–everywhere–on his body, it didn't matter as long as he was punished for hurting the person he cared for the most.

He fought the urge to run and instead he rested his forehead against one of the bedposts. He gave into his tears the second time that day. "It's because of you!" he sobbed. He was gripping the post so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Why is it because of me?" Harry whispered gently, almost so that Ron couldn't hear him. Harry didn't know if he should be hurt by this or not. It was too soon to tell.

"I can't say,"

Harry moved, placing his hand on Ron's shoulder. "Yes, you can,"

Ron had stopped sobbing, but his tears continued to fall silently. He turned away from the bedpost, but didn't look into Harry's eyes. "I... I love you Harry," he whispered.

"You... you what?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure if he had heard Ron right.

"I love you," Ron repeated slightly louder.

"How... I don't understand how that drove you to start cutting yourself,"

"You've got so many people who want to be with you, why would you ever choose me?" Ron asked sadly.

"I would choose you Ron, above everyone else. You want to know why?" Ron looked up at Harry, and Harry gave him a smile. "You're fun to be with, loyal to people you care for and I know you would never hurt me on purpose. You always know how to make me smile, even without talking," he moved his hand from Ron's shoulder to his cheek as he spoke.

He wiped the tears from Ron's cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "You're beautiful Ron. With your thick red hair, deep blue eyes," Harry smiled, "and those freckles you complain about so much... The reason I why I would choose you above all them is because I love you too, Ron,"

"You-what?"Ron asked. To say he was shocked would be the understatement of the century.

"You heard me," Harry whispered. "I love you," he kissed Ron gently and then smiled up at him, "You should tell someone how you're feeling next time," he said softly. He was absentmindedly playing with the hair at the nape of Ron's neck. "It's not good to keep things bottled up like that... I'm a perfect example of how that can go wrong..." Harry trailed off. But he had to get one more thing from Ron before he would be happy. "Do you promise you'll never do it again?"

Ron swallowed, "I-I'll try not to, but I don't know if I can stop Harry. It's like a... it's like an obsession,"

Harry kissed him softly and held Ron's hands in his own. "Come to me when you feel it. I don't care what I'm doing at the time, come and get me, and let me help you,"

"Alright Harry, I will," Ron gave Harry the first true smile he had shown in a while.

* * *

The next morning Ron woke up in the Room of Requirement on the large fluffy bed, spooning with Harry. He took in the honey scent of Harry's hair as he looked out the window. Ron could just see the top of the sun rising over the mountain peaks.Everything wasn't completely better now. He'd be lying if he said it was. Ron still felt a the anxiety in his veins and the knot of fear in the pit of his stomach, but they weren't as strong now. The room wasn't quite as dark either. Maybe, just maybe, Harry could help make the darkness go away for good.

* * *

****

A/n– The ending was rushed, I know. I stopped for about a month, came back with a new train of thought, and rewrote a few parts of it. I never let anyone read my fanfics before I post them, but a few weeks ago I let a girl at school read this one. She made fun of it, and I lost my enthusiasm to finish it. 

Note: Edited on 12/02/04 for grammar, spelling and punctuation. A few things may be different from the original version, but nothing drastic.

**Please Review! **

_:-:silver-sunn101:-: _


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